


(meant to) start a war

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Family, Alternate Universe - Stripper, Consent Issues, M/M, Rom-Com Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor works hard for the money. Loki doesn't treat him right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"So guess what a little birdie told me," Amora says one morning. There's a smile on her face, secretive and knowing. 

"What," Loki says. It must be good, for her to smile like that.

He laughs when he finds out, and keeps on laughing. When he finally stops, he says, "Let's go see, shall we?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

-

He doesn't have a plan. Perverse curiosity, mainly. If he can figure out how to use it to his advantage, it will come to him in time.

For now he watches the boy onstage, dancing a slow, sensuous dance. Loki's seen pictures of him - blond, wild, beautiful. Always in some sort of scrape or another, according to his sources. All of which his father has bailed him out of, buried under a pile of money and influence. It must have been something major, for him to end up here. 

Amora says, "What do you think?" 

"I see promise." The smile he gives her is not pleasant, and she turns back to the stage. 

"He's young." 

"Old enough to take his clothes off for the drunk and desperate." 

Amora shrugs. She understands Loki's rage on an abstract level - she will help him because it suits her to be in his good graces, for now at least. Loki fully expects the stab in the back at some point in the future, but for now he has her. 

"What exactly are you planning," Amora asks, leaning forward in interest.

Loki says, "Not sure yet. We'll see."

-

His stage name is Blake the Rake. He doesn't look particularly rakish to Loki. He's tall, his body lean and lithe, and every inch of him could be carved lovingly out of stone. 

Amora says, "I have to admit. He is something, isn't he," when Thor's swaying on the stage in nothing but boxer briefs and a black bandana that keeps his too long hair out of his eyes. 

"He's something all right," Loki replies, keeping his voice neutral. 

She leans forward, waves a dollar bill enticingly. Thor grins, winks at her. His gaze lands briefly on Loki's, then shifts away. 

Loki pulls out a hundred, waves it desultorily at him. He doesn't expect more than a wink in response as well - he certainly doesn't expect Thor to drop lazily from the stage in one fluid motion, to walk the few steps over and climb into Loki's lap. "Hey," he says, and up close, he's younger than on first impression, face unlined, almost baby smooth. His lips are on Loki's before Loki can respond, tongue brushing past Loki's teeth, into his open mouth. 

Loki kisses him back. What else can he do?

When Thor breaks away, he's grinning, his expression bordering on smug. Loki can barely breathe, finds his cock hard against Thor's thigh. Thor takes the hundred from his nerveless fingers, whispers, "Thanks," and tucks it into his briefs. 

He shimmies away, and Loki remarks idly to Amora, "Natural blonde, unlike you." 

"Fuck you," Amora says, without rancor. 

Loki shifts in his seat, watches Thor finish the rest of the show. He can still taste the boy on his lips.

Now, he has a plan.

-

"Do you even know how to seduce a man? How long's it been since you've been with someone you didn't pay for," Amora asks over lunch. Loki's told her, not because he particularly wants her advice, but because she'll find out soon enough anyway.

"That doesn't have to change," Loki says. "He's hungry. He'll come."

"I don't know how you'll mange to not be yourself, Loki." 

"What do you mean?" 

"You know, hearts and flowers isn't exactly your forte." 

"I don't believe hearts and flowers is exactly what this one's looking for," Loki says. 

Not a boy like this: Loki can smell him from a mile away. Not a boy like this.

Odin's son. What a surprise, this. 

A pleasant, delightfully warm surprise.

-

Loki goes alone, the next time. He doesn't bother waving the hundred, just sits there and waits for Thor to notice him. 

He does, eventually, and climbs into Loki's lap as if he belongs there, as if he's been doing nothing but wait for Loki to show up, just so he can grind his hips down and make Loki groan. Loki tilts his head back, and Thor kisses him, and around him there's screaming, women bubbling with excitement, and then there's nothing. Just Loki, and Thor in his lap, hot and pliant. 

Thor moans as if he's truly into it, and when he breaks away his eyes are dazed, mouth bruised and inviting. "Hey," he says, but then he shakes himself, and carefully stands, struts back to the stage.

His gaze keeps wandering towards Loki though, hot and curious. Loki knows the look well enough, although he's ignored most of the advances made to him - sex is complicated even when promises are made not to make it so, and Loki prefers to pay just to eliminate even the slightest hint of commitment.

He didn't expect it from Thor, though. Expected to have to work far harder than this.

It's as if the universe has seen fit to give him a gift, golden and lithe and wrapped up in spandex and glitter.

Loki would be foolish to turn it down.

-

Again, and again. 

Loki brings hundreds, slips them under Thor's thong, right where his hipbones dip in. He's not supposed to touch, the rules were made clear - but he's certain there's not supposed to be kissing either. He slides his hand up Thor's spine, and Thor's cock jumps against Loki's belly, and he smiles. 

"Hey," Loki says, incoherent and intoxicated with lust. "I want - how much?" It's a mistake. The moment the words slip from his mouth, he knows it's a mistake. 

"How much for - oh," Thor says, as realization crosses his face. There's surprise there as well, although surely this isn't the first time he's been propositioned. The smile slips from his face, and Loki feels the spell unraveling, feels him slipping away.

"Anything," Loki says, almost desperate. "I will pay you anything." It's because he wants to fix this, surely. Not because of anything else.

Thor takes Loki's wrists into his hands, leans down and kisses him on the jaw, close to his ear. "No," he says.

He stands, walks away.

-

Loki comes in early, the next night, even though he's not interested in any of the other dancers. It's Friday night and the club is packed, and Loki flirts briefly with just paying the club owner for a private show, Thor and Thor alone, but he's not that desperate. Yet.

There's someone vaguely familiar leaning against the bar counter. Sweatshirt with the hood up, and Loki doesn't fully recognize him until he pushes the hood down to reveal messy golden hair.

Loki forces his way through the crowd, and a space miraculously appears right next to Thor. Loki slips in, says, "Hello."

The smile Thor gives him when he turns his head is blinding. "Franklin," he says, warm. 

"Loki, actually." Loki holds out his hand. "I'm Loki."

Thor takes it after a moment, squeezes. "Thor."

"Thor. That another stage name?"

"Nope."

"That seems unwise," Loki says. He lifts a finger at the bartender to pour him two drinks, pushes one at Thor.

"Too late now. Guess I'm just not creative enough to think of two separate stage personas."

"I've seen your show. I'm certain lack of creativity is the least of your drawbacks." 

Thor grins, and leans further against the counter. "Loki, huh?" 

"Laufeyson," Loki says, but there's no glimmer of recognition in Thor. Interesting.

"Oh hey, like the developer."

"Like the developer, yes." He leans in close, whispers into Thor's ear. "What time do you get off?"

"I believe that it's my job to make sure you get off, not the other way around."

"No, I meant -" He puts his hand on Thor's forearm, and Thor doesn't pull away. "When are you done - I can come pick you up. I'll pay."

Thor opens his mouth to respond, but there's a man there suddenly, wrapping his arm around Thor's shoulder. "Hey, kid," he says, flat and genial, but his eye is steel as he stares at Loki. "You should go get ready. Hot night tonight."

"It's okay, I have the time."

"You sure?" He's still staring at Loki. Loki removes his hand.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Well, if you're sure." He squeezes Thor on the shoulder, frowns at Loki before he stalks away.

Loki feels vaguely chastened, for no particular reason at all.

"My boss," Thor says. "Owns the club."

"Yeah, I don't care," Loki replies. "As I was saying - how much for more than just a private dance?" 

"And as I was saying - no."

"No?"

"No." He takes another drink from the bartender, winks at her before turning his attention back to Loki, a carefully blank expression on his face. "I have someplace to be - you can try Tony, he'll probably say yes." 

And on that, he walks away. 

Loki knows better than to follow.

-

He doesn't expect the lap dance, not after the inexplicable rejection, so it's a surprise when Thor clambers into his lap, loops his arms loosely around Loki's neck. "Hey you."

"Tease," Loki says.

Thor grinds himself down into Loki's lap. "Yup."

\- 

Thor says no the next time Loki asks, and the time after that. Even when he's in Loki's lap, and kissing him, and allowing Loki to touch him wherever he pleases, he says no. "Name your price," Loki says. Thor stops mid-gyrate and stands, his face turning blank.

"You couldn't afford me," he says.

"Try me." Thor just shakes his head. "Are you straight, is that it? You have a policy?" 

"I'm not straight," Thor says, and walks away.

-

"So you offered him money? You do know I wasn't kidding when I said hearts and flowers."

"I know," Loki says, and bares his teeth. Amora is laughing at him. She thinks this is funny. From her point of view it probably is.

This should be easy. Thor's no doubt lonely, and has to be somewhat desperate. A boy like him, raised to only expect the finest things in life, suddenly forced to fend for himself. He should be looking to Loki for a lifejacket, for just a glimmer of what he lost - even if he's not aware of it.

"Maybe he's just not a gigolo," Amora says.

"No, he's just playing hard to get. Probably holding out for a bigger payout."

"So what are you going to do?" 

"What I'm going to do," Loki says, "is stop asking."

He's Odin's boy. He should be used to being told what to do.

Besides, Loki's tired of waiting.

-

"So he'll be alone," Loki says, as he slips five notes to the bouncer. He must be new, none of the regular bouncers would allow themselves to be bribed.

"Yeah, but make it quick - the others come back once their act is done. You have maybe half an hour."

"Thank you," Loki says.

-

Thor's sitting at a dressing table, a tube of lip gloss in his hand. He lifts his gaze when Loki approaches, stares at him in the mirror. "You're not supposed to -"

"Shut up," Loki says. He takes Thor by the arm, propels him to his feet before he shoves him down onto the ground. Thor lands gracefully, hand braced against the tiles as he stares at Loki, wide-eyed. Loki gets on his knees, hooks one hand beneath Thor's thigh and pulls him forward.

"No, you can't just -"

"I said shut up." He grabs a fistful of golden locks, pulls Thor up for a kiss, wild and hard. Thor gasps against him, shimmies slightly. Loki uses his free hand to tug Thor's shorts down, past his hips and off his feet, so he's fully naked except for inexplicable red-striped socks and converses. 

Thor's hard, and he whines somewhat when Loki wraps a hand around his cock. "Wait, wait," he starts.

"What? Do you want me to stop? Because I'm tired of your -" Thor just shakes his head, and Loki kisses him again. "I hope you're ready. Because I'm going to fuck you now." 

Thor groans, and points to the dressing table. Lube and condoms, in a basket helpfully filled to the brim. 

Loki preps minimally, unbuckles his pants and pulls his cock out through his boxers. Thor doesn't help much, just leans on his elbows as Loki pushes his knees wider apart and shoves himself in, hard. Thor makes a sharp, stuttering sound in the back of his throat, and it's the sweetest thing, that sound. That and the way his head falls back as Loki fucks into him, driving in deeper with every stroke. He's so very tight, even with the lube, and Loki wants to scream. 

It's too hot in the small room - he pauses just long enough to remove his coat and toss it aside. Thor lifts his hand, tugs Loki down by his tie for a sloppy, wet kiss, and Loki starts fucking him again, harder. Thor slides his fingers into his hair and says, faintly breathless, "You can slow down a bit, you know."

Loki just laughs and speeds up, slams into Thor until he's incoherent, and moaning helplessly, and there's nothing in Loki's head but blood and pounding heat and _Thor_. He comes, hard and fast, and collapses on top of Thor, heaving in breath after heavy breath.

Thor squirms, cants his hips upwards, says, "Hey, come on."

Loki somehow manages to lift himself off and give Thor a few perfunctory strokes, and Thor comes, stuttering and swearing softly under his breath.

After Loki catches his breath, he falls onto the floor next to Thor, stares up at the ceiling until his vision clears. "So how much do I owe you?" Thor starts to laugh weakly, and Loki slides his gaze over. "Well?" 

"I'll take your watch," Thor says, and there's a sudden sharpness to his voice.

Did your father show you how to tell a man's worth by looking at his watch, Loki wants to say. Instead he tugs on the strap until it loosens and presses it into Thor's palm. "This buys me more than just a single fuck." 

Thor lifts the watch to his face, shrugs. "It's a nice watch, but still just a watch." 

Loki exhales, says, "Go find out. You're a smart boy."

-

Three days later, and he's cursing himself for his stupidity, wondering if Thor would just take the watch and disappear - until the announcer booms out, "And now, ladies and gents, the man you have been waiting for - the myth, the legend -" His voice fades out as Thor bounds onto the stage, young and beautiful and with a distinctly familiar watch on his wrist.

He flashes a grin in Loki's direction before he starts to dance, spending far more time in front of Loki's table than anyone else's. 

Loki waits for him after the show, propels him into a quiet corner. Thor takes off the watch and passes it to Loki, says, "I believe this is yours."

"Are you stupid?"

"I don't really think you wanted to pay me with a half million dollar watch."

"But I did - and what, you'd rather wear it and continue to take your clothes off for money instead?"

"Something like that, yeah." Thor grins at him again, shrugs. "You could just say I stole it, anyway. So what did you think I was gonna do with it?"

That stumps Loki for a moment. He puts the watch back on, reaches into his coat and pulls out his money clip. "So I'll pay you now. For then, and for tonight."

"I'm busy tonight," Thor replies immediately. 

Loki pushes more money into his jeans pocket, says, "Now you're not."

Thor frowns, but finally just shrugs. "All right, whatever. Just let me make a phone call first." He pulls away to make the call, and Loki can only make out a muffled conversation, a name said warmly. When Thor returns, he says, "All set."

"Who's Sif?" 

"Just a friend. Come on, I think the dressing room's probably clear now." 

Loki stops him, says, "Not here again, no. I'm certain I contracted an STD just from touching that floor. Where do you live?"

"Just around the corner." Thor hesitates, scratches the back of his head. "Yeah, okay - come on."

They have to walk up five sets of grungy stairs because, as Thor says, "the elevator's kind of fucked recently."

"How recent?"

"Since before I moved in." The apartment is tiny and cluttered, but surprisingly neat. Loki figured he'd be the messy sort. "You want a drink?"

"No," Loki says, shutting the door behind him as Thor puts the keys onto a table. "I want what I paid for."

There's a bed shoved into the corner of the room. Loki pushes Thor backwards, down onto it. He watches Thor kick off his shoes, shimmy out of his jeans and sweatshirt. He's half hard, almost shy as he says, "Now you." But he doesn't wait for Loki, grabs his tie instead and pulls him down on top of him. Somehow, in between careless, wet kisses, they manage to get Loki's clothes off.

He fucks Thor twice, the first time as fast as the previous time, the second slow. Thor flips him over on the uncomfortable mattress and rides him for what seems like hours, his hair a golden mess over his face.

Close to dawn, he dresses again to leave, puts an additional five hundred on the table underneath the keys. Thor's passed out on the bed. He looks woefully out of place here: surely he must know this. 

Is Odin aware? He has to be keeping tabs on his only son. Then again: if he was, Thor would probably not be here to sell himself to Loki. He would be hauled home immediately before Loki could even think of doing what he'd just done.

And more than once, as well.

It's already a victory, this. Loki takes out his phone, snaps a few pictures for posterity. 

Thor stirs when Loki leans over him, opens one eye. "You leaving?" 

"Well there's hardly room here for me to sleep, is there?"

"Mmph," Thor says, and goes back to sleep.

-

"Good night, sir?" Marcus asks, his face reflecting nothing but blank politeness as Loki slides into the backseat of the car. 

"I've had worse," Loki replies.

A week, he tells himself. He will wait a week before returning. That's a reasonable amount of time.


	2. Chapter 2

He lasts five days, and when he shows up Thor's not even performing. Loki catches the attention of a passing waitress, asks, "Where's Thor?" 

She smiles knowingly. "Sorry man, he's off today. But Iron Man's on later - get those dollar bills ready, you'll love him."

Loki skips the show, heads over to Thor's apartment instead. Five interminable flights of stairs and he's at Thor's front door, ringing the doorbell until he realizes it's not working. When he knocks, Thor opens it almost immediately. He's freshly showered, shirtless with a towel slung over his shoulder and his jeans low on his hips.

"Hey," he says, and sounds surprised.

"They said you were off." 

"Yeah," Thor says. 

"Well, invite me in already, I feel unsafe standing out in this hallway." Thor steps aside, and when Loki brushes past him he can smell the scent of aftershave and shampoo, plus Thor's clean, rich scent.

"I have dinner plans," Thor says, mild.

"Cancel them - I'll make it worth your while."

"All right."

Thor makes his phone call, apologizes profusely to what seems like the same person as previously. "This Sif, she your girlfriend," Loki asks, when Thor hangs up. 

"No, of course not." Thor looks startled. "Or I wouldn't be doing this with you." 

"This is business," Loki says, just because. Thor doesn't reply. He busies himself in the tiny kitchenette instead, and Loki allows it because he enjoys watching the muscular line of his back. He takes a seat at the counter, says, "So, what? You don't date? Or is it that any potential partner won't understand." 

Thor turns around, hands Loki a bottle of beer. "I date," he says. "But not right now."

Loki takes a sip, grimaces at the awful taste. He sets the bottle down, slides his hand down the front of Thor's shirt. Thor's gaze turns dark, and he falls to his knees, settles himself in between Loki's open legs. 

"Hey, let's not talk about this, okay?" 

Loki touches his cheek as Thor reaches for his belt. "Sure, whatever you say."

-

Close to dawn, Loki sits up on the bed and says, "We should talk."

Thor stretches, scratching idly at a streak of dried come on his chest. "What about?" 

"Your other sexual partners." He'd remembered the condom, but barely. Forgotten it entirely for both the blowjob he'd gotten and the one he'd given, Thor twisting under him and making anguished, stuttering noises. "I don't - how much do you want for -" he almost chokes on the word. "Exclusivity." "

"I'm not giving up the club," Thor replies immediately.

"I'm not asking you to. You'll still need a job once I'm done with this." Once he gets what he wants. Although the plan at this point is still vague. He will start with ruining Thor, and work from there back to Odin.

"You're such a romantic," Thor says. 

Loki rolls his eyes. "Well? I'll make it worth your while." Thor shrugs, licks his wet, faintly swollen lips, and Loki wonders if he has time before he has to go home to shower and change, rush for his morning meeting. 

"Sure, okay."

-

Loki has to fly across the globe the next day - he contemplates briefly asking Thor to come along, but abandons the idea quickly enough, unable to bear the thought of having to make conversation with him throughout the flight.

He'd given Thor his number, and on the second day receives a hopeful little message: "You coming over tonight?" 

"In Tokyo," Loki texts back. "Will return in a week." There's only a smiley face in return. Loki puts the phone down, but another message pops up. 

It's a picture.

Thor in red boxer briefs and nothing else, smiling at himself in the mirror as he holds out the phone.

On impulse, Loki texts a reply: "You ever been to Japan?"

He sends Thor a ticket, prays he has a passport. Thor's in the hotel suite when Loki returns at the end of a horrendous day, sitting at a table and flipping idly through a newspaper. "Everyone here is really polite," he says. "And short." 

"I believe that's partly due to you being very tall." 

Thor flashes him a grin. "Maybe."

Enough chit-chat, Loki wants to say. Come here. But it's been a long day, and he's exhausted. "I'm going to take a shower," he tells Thor. "You can order room service if you're hungry."

"I haven't had a shower either," Thor replies. "I'm kinda gross."

Thor jerks him off in the shower, slow, as Loki leans against the tiles and closes his eyes.

He's too tired to do much more, and so points Thor to the other room in the suite before retiring to his own. Faint disappointment crosses Thor's face, but he only kisses Loki sweetly on the cheek, whispers "Goodnight, Franklin," before disappearing.

-

Amora shows up at the hotel to drop off some documents. Thor opens the door before Loki can stop him, and her eyes widen slightly. "Hey, I know you. Blake, right?" 

"Thor."

"Oh, much better." There's a smirk on her face. 

"Thor," Loki says. "Go for a walk or something." 

"Sure." 

When Thor closes the door behind him Amora raises a brow at Loki. "So I guess he's fallen for your dubious charm, huh?"

"He's falling for the money I offer him," Loki says, stiff. 

"Sure, that's it." Amora throws herself into a chair. "Do you even have a plan, Loki?"

It's a question he's asked himself a few times, over the past few days. Mostly when his cock is being sucked and Thor is looking up at him through heavy-lidded blue eyes. "Of course I have a plan," he says airily. "You've dropped off the documents, now go away before I fire you." 

"You can't fire me - who else will ever be honest with you?" Loki grits his teeth, wills her to disappear. It doesn't work. "I tried to get him to fuck me once, you know. More than once. Said he didn't mix business with pleasure. Then I offered him money, still said no."

"Maybe he just prefers cock, Amora." 

"Perhaps." Amora looks unconvinced. "So you flew him all the way to Japan? That's your plan? Wine and dine him in the exotic wilds of Tokyo? There are Japanese hookers, you know. Oh, the things the Japanese know how to do." Her voice turns faintly dreamy. 

"Out," Loki says. He points at the door.

She refuses to leave until Loki has to threaten her with violence, and then she only laughs before she whirls away, still laughing. He would fire her, but she's not wrong: no-one else is entirely honest with him, and honesty is often more valuable than anything else, including loyalty.

By the time Thor returns, he's worked himself into a state. "Where have you been," he snarls. 

"You said take a walk, I assumed -" 

"Not for two hours." He narrows his eyes, and Thor steps back warily. 

He holds out his hand, says, "I went to some market nearby, bought you some snacks and stuff. No idea what they are, but they smell great." 

Loki ignores the paper bag, continues to glare at him. "Come here."

"Naw, I don't think so." Thor sets the bag down on a table, turns to leave. 

"Now where are you going?" 

"I'll come back when you're in a better mood, maybe." 

"I'm not paying you to walk away from me," Loki snaps. 

Thor whirls around, and now it's Loki that steps back. There's a violent, barely controlled rage in his face when he says, "You're not paying me for this."

Loki lets him leave, makes a note of limits and when and where exactly to push them. 

He eats the candy after Thor's gone. They're good, just the right side of overly sweet. Loki's always had a sweet tooth, but he tries to control himself. He's not sure why Thor even knows that.

He falls asleep at two, wakes up to a body pressed to him. "Hey," Thor says. His breath smells faintly of sake when he presses his lips to Loki's. 

Loki moans, slips an arm around him and flips him over onto his back, settles heavily on top of him. "Hey yourself."

"You're so hot," Thor says, and he sounds entirely sincere. His eyes are wide, oddly trusting. 

Loki smiles, but it's more like he bares his teeth. "Yeah, that's why you're here." He kisses Thor before he can respond, or change his mind. 

"Yeah," Thor says, when Loki breaks the kiss, "That's good. Fuck me, come on." He shimmies up with some desperation, and Loki has no choice but to comply.

-

Amora calls him, says, "About your mid-life crisis -"

"Fuck you," Loki replies, and hangs up.

-

All Thor's brought with him is a couple of pairs of jeans and three t-shirts. "I figured it wasn't like I was gonna be dressed much anyway."

Loki says, "We're going out for dinner, come on." He hadn't intended to bring Thor anywhere, but if Amora is going to mock him, well. "Take this, buy yourself a nice suit." He hands Thor a credit card, but Thor only looks at him, a small smile on his face.

"I didn't understand what they were saying," he says. "When I went out the last time." 

Loki sighs and glances at his watch. "Fine, I have some time. Come on." 

There's a row of shops nearby, and an Italian tailor that's lived in Tokyo for over twenty years. Thor looks vaguely uncomfortable as he's fitted, and the tailor clucks disapprovingly when he fidgets. 

Loki says mildly, "Behave," before turning back to the fabric swatches. "Grey wool, I think. And a darker grey for the shirt." 

"Grey," Antonio says. "Good. Maybe a vest?"

"Vest is good, yes," Loki replies distractedly, his thoughts focused mainly on peeling Thor out of a fine, well made suit. "I need this by tonight." Antonio looks scandalized, but only sighs in agreement. It's not the first time Loki's demanded a suit at the last minute. First time he's asked for one for anyone but himself, though.

Thor says, "If I'd known I would be needing a suit, I would have brought one."

"Somehow I doubt that tear-aways will suffice."

"Left or right," Antonio asks.

"Left," Thor says, and beams down at him. "Thank you," he continues, in perfectly accented Italian.

Antonio clears his throat, looks flustered, then charmed, a smile crossing his lined face. Loki has known the man for the better part of a decade, and has never seen him even remotely like this. 

Loki scowls, as Thor continues to flirt with him for the rest of the fitting, his Italian apparently extending beyond the polite greeting. When it's finally over and they're back in the car on the way to the hotel, Loki asks, "So where did you learn Italian?"

"I had a neighbor," Thor says, shifting in his seat. "Came from Sicily."

"Ah," Loki says. 

He's a terrible liar, it's almost funny. He has practically no defenses, not against the likes of Loki. It's amazing he's managed to survive for so long. 

Thor leans forward, kisses Loki. "You want a blowjob," he asks, against Loki's lips. Loki glances at the driver in the rear-view mirror, who slides up the privacy divider without a change in expression. Thor reaches for Loki's belt, but Loki takes his wrists in his hands and pushes him down onto the seat. He unbuttons Thor's jeans and shoves them down past his ass, bites down hard on the soft inner flesh of Thor's thigh. Thor jerks up and away, but Loki moves his hands to Thor's hips, holds him there so he can slide his mouth over the head of his cock. "Oh," Thor says. "Fuck."

-

"So why do this," Loki asks over dinner, as he watches Thor fumble with the chopsticks. 

"Why what?" 

"Stripping. Whoring." 

"I don't know, pays the bills?" 

"Surely you can get a job elsewhere. Actually, you should probably be in college." 

Thor turns his sake cup around idly. "I had to drop out. Hurt my knee, lost my football scholarship." 

"Ah," Loki says. Well, that's mostly the truth at least. "Your parents know what you do for a living?" 

Thor colors. "I don't know, and I don't care. My dad kicked me out because I -" He pauses, bites his lower lip. "I hurt my knee in a fight, not on the field. Dad was kind of disappointed, to put it mildly."

And there, the rest of it. Thor's struggling with the words, but there's such trust there. Loki can't remember ever being this open, not even as a child. "Putting it mildly, huh?" 

"I have a temper," Thor says, and his color deepens. Loki wants to fuck him then and there, throw him down onto the mat and shove his cock down that pretty mouth. It's like he's a teenager around this boy. It's insane and utterly irrational. "I'm working on it." 

"Hm?" 

"My temper," Thor repeats evenly. "I try not to get into fights so often."

"But surely you could get a more respectable job." 

"I have a criminal record," Thor says, and then he turns defensive. "And there's nothing wrong with what I do. I enjoy it, and it pays well enough." 

"Well you're certainly living the high life on those dollar bills that are tucked into your thong every night." 

Thor glances around him, says after a moment, "I seem to be doing okay right now." Loki snorts, and Thor's gaze wanders back to his. "You're kind of a dick, you know." 

"So I've been told."

"By your friends?" 

"By everyone. I wear it with pride." 

Thor frowns and puts down the chopsticks he's been fiddling with. He picks the sushi up with his fingers instead, drops it into his mouth.

Loki picks up another piece with his chopsticks, holds it out for Thor to eat. "It's not hard," he says. "You just have to practice."

Thor allows Loki to feed him for the rest of the evening, only stopping when the privacy afforded to them is interrupted by an order of food.

"I suppose we have something in common then," Loki says, at the end of the meal. He's cleared the rest of the restaurant out, and now they're mostly alone. "We're both disappointments to our fathers." 

"You? Why would you be a disappointment." 

Loki finds his lips thinning. "Being the bastard son that your mother refused to abort against your father's wishes tends to do that." 

"Oh," Thor says. "I'm sorry." He's sympathetic, but he's started to mumble from the sake, and it strikes Loki then, how young he is. 

"Are you twenty-one yet," he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah, sure." 

"Don't lie to me." 

Thor shrugs. "Almost. In a few months."

"How many?"

"Twenty-three."

"Did you only just turn nineteen?" Loki was aware of the year, not the exact month. 

"Last week, yeah. That evening when you dropped by, that was my birthday." 

"So you skipped your birthday celebration?" 

Thor shrugs again. "It wasn't that big a deal - I wanted to."

"I -" Loki says. "I turned eighteen the year you were born."

"Yeah? And what were you doing then?"

"College," Loki says. Struggling to save his mom: all that effort and she still died. Struggling to stay alive: all that effort and he - well, at least he's still here. "You should consider returning."

"Maybe," Thor replies, in a manner that indicates he will do no such thing. "Hey, you should take me back to the hotel and fuck me, okay. I'm sick of wearing this suit."

-

They return home on a private jet, because Loki can't stand the idea of Thor fidgeting in a seat for hours. Loki has too much work to do, but he raises his head when Thor slides into the chair across from him. "So I was thinking," Loki says, putting down his pen. "When we return home - your living conditions are dire."

"It's only that I just started out," Thor says. "I'm looking for a better place."

"I have a spare apartment - a complex I just developed." 

"I like my place," Thor says doubtfully.

"I don't. You can't expect me to trudge up and down five flights of stairs just to see you."

"Yes, you are kind of old - knee joints going?"

Loki scowls, but Thor's started to laugh. "I'll bring you to the apartment, you don't have to move in, just take a look." He fixes some earnestness onto his face. "I just wouldn't want to get robbed, in a place like that."

"I'll think about it," Thor replies. He fidgets in his seat, looks out the porthole. "So how many hours do we have left?"

"A few." He pictures Thor then, quite unbidden, on his knees with Loki's cock shoved down his throat, and shifts in his seat.

Thor grins.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki gets Marcus to pick Thor up from his apartment, bring him over to the new one. "Ta-da," Loki says, waving his hand at the vast expanse of the living room.

Thor merely shrugs.

It's certainly more like what he's used to, but then it's entirely possible he enjoys the slumming. Loki can think of other things a boy like him could be doing, even without the college education and daddy's money. He continues to look expectantly at Thor, and finally Thor mutters, "It's a bit far from the club."

"I can get someone to pick you up," Loki says, holding up a finger when Thor looks to object, "or there's a bus that runs past." He takes Thor by the arms, says, "Or you can take a cab and I'll reimburse you. Don't say no."

"Somehow I get the feeling if I say no I'll still end up saying yes."

"If only that were true - people have been saying no to me all my life."

Thor looks thoughtful, then wry, and says, "So yes then." It's as if he's decided that although Loki's manipulating him, he'll acquiesce. Loki can't decide whether he's pleased or not. "So show me the bedroom. You know you want to." Loki points, and Thor starts walking backwards, beckons to Loki as he does so. 

"Thanks, but I do have to go to work."

"Hmm," Thor says, with great disappointment. "I suppose I'll have to entertain myself then, in this -" he opens the door, peers in, "massive bed, thank you. I do kinda like to spread out."

There's a joke in there somewhere, and Loki has to remind himself he's above this level of humor. He leaves instead, passes the key to the apartment to Thor. Then he passes another set. "Car," he says. "There's a car in a private garage attached to this apartment. You can also take the car if you don't like the bus." 

Thor opens his mouth, shuts it again. "So, what, I'm your boy toy now?" There's a smile in his voice. 

"Sure," Loki says, rolling his eyes. "Why not."

-

In the middle of the meeting, Thor sends him a picture. Loki used his measurements to arrange for a closetful of clothes, and Thor's put on a tailored suit, dark blue with grey accents. In the next picture, he's removed the suit jacket. And the next, and the next, each one with less clothing than the previous.

The last photo he sends is of him on the bed, naked. From the angle, all Loki sees is the expanse of his chest, and then his fingers, wrapped around his hard cock.

Loki decides to ignore the pictures. 

It's not as if Thor can force him to abandon his work to go suck his cock.

-

"An hour, that's all I have," he tells Thor, as Thor works desperately on his belt.

"Then you better shut up and get to work," Thor says.

-

"So would you like to accompany me to a dinner party," Loki asks, flipping through his newspaper. He lifts his head just in time to see Thor blanche, then gamely attempt a recovery.

"What kind of dinner party?"

"Charity event. Boring, really. You could be my barely legal scandal - it'll be grand."

"I don't really think that's a good idea," Thor says.

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to, that's all." There's a stubbornness set into his shoulders.

Loki presses on. "I will accept the no, Thor. So long as it's accompanied by a valid reason. I don't want to," Loki turns another page, "is not a valid reason."

Of all the things Loki expects, honesty certainly isn't one of them. But Thor says, in a rush, "It's just that my father might be there."

Loki raises a brow, feigns cool surprise. "Your father?"

"You may know him," Thor all but mumbles. "Odin, of -"

"That's your father?" He's not quite sure how to react - the truth isn't exactly what he'd been after. It's convenient then that his confusion works for the situation. 

"I should have told you."

"What? That you've just been slumming it all this while? That when I thought I was helping you out I was really fueling your teenaged rebellion?"

"It's not like that," Thor yells. "He disowned me, it's true. I didn't lie about that. My trust doesn't kick in until I'm twenty one - I work because I need the money."

"Do your stripper friends know who you are? Does your precious Nick?"

"Stop it," Thor says.

"Who are you?" 

"The same person I was a minute ago, when you didn't know," he says, and now the anger has given away to misery. "I didn't mean to lie to you. It's just awkward whenever people find out."

Loki reaches across the distance between them, rubs the back of Thor's neck. Thor leans into the touch like a cat, smiles hopefully up at him. "No more lies," Loki says. "I like you too much for that."

"I promise," Thor swears solemnly. 

Loki releases him, goes back to his newspaper. "So Thor Odinson, huh? That's some heritage."

"You don't know the half of it."

"You'll have to face him eventually, you do know that."

Thor's expression is pained. "Yeah, but maybe not right now."

"All right then - but then I'll need another escort. Do you want to recommend someone to me?"

"Sure," Thor says immediately. "Steve - he'll be perfect."

-

Steve, as it turns out, is in fact perfect. Square-jawed, blue-eyed, utterly all-American, including the healthy heterosexuality. "I can flirt with you, that's not an issue," he says with a wink and a friendly smile. "We'll have a great time together."

"Which doesn't include sex at the end of the night." Not that Loki's remotely interested.

"Afraid not," he says regretfully. "It's not your gender - I strip and I escort, but sex should be between two people who care about one another. Besides, Thor's a great guy. Really great. One of the best."

Loki bristles, says stiffly, "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"No, I guess it doesn't," Steve replies, but Loki senses disappointment. He holds out his arm for Loki to link elbows. "Ready to put on a show?"

"Always," Loki says.

A good time is had by all, Loki manages to swallow his disdain for the apple pie and vanilla that Steve embodies, and they manage to pull off behaving vaguely like a couple for the evening. Helblindi comes up towards the end, says, "So I see you're still going to hell, brother of mine. But one would think you'd have learnt some discretion by now." 

Loki raises a brow. "I suppose I should be more like our father then, and keep a mistress hidden away for decades." He doesn't understand why Helblindi is even here - after Loki systematically destroyed Laufey and his entire empire, they should be begging for scraps and not shelling out thousands for a table at a charity function. But what Loki's learnt is that old boy connections buy you a lot, even if you're bankrupt on paper. At least Laufey didn't show up, and Helblindi is probably just leeching off one of his heiress girlfriends with soft hearts and trust funds.

Steve looks more and more flummoxed as the two of them trade barbs, and finally he snaps, "I'm tired, love. Would you take me home please, so we can unwind some." To Helblindi he gives a terse, "Sir," and a nod of the head. And then he kisses Loki, lingering slightly. 

"I thought you were straight," Loki remarks, as they leave in the limo. 

"I am - but your brother is very unpleasant."

He'd shaken Odin's hand at the party, made small talk and managed to bury his all-consuming hatred, as he always did. Helbindi and Odin: Loki twirls the contents of a tumbler of whiskey in his hand and can't decide who he wants to see burn more. At least with Odin he has a shot: he'd asked after his son with extreme politeness, couldn't miss the twitch in Odin's brow. "My son's fine," Odin said, and Loki had smirked.

"My brother is extremely unpleasant," Loki says, thinning his lips. "So, Steve - how long have you known Thor?"

"A couple of months. He's a good kid, real good kid." There's a protective glint in Steve's eyes.  
Whatever Thor's told them about him, it can't have left a very good impression. Either that or they see what everyone else sees, which is a bitter old man preying on someone half his age. Loki doesn't know if his private agenda makes it better or worse. He's still screwing Thor, either way. 

"I'll take care of him, don't you worry." 

Steve doesn't reply. 

-

Third Sunday of every month, Loki visits Farbauti's grave. He had her moved from the simple plot of land provided by the state to a private cemetery with a generous headstone as soon as he could afford to, arranged for fresh flowers to be laid out daily. It' still not enough - he still needs to apologize, to atone for his sins. 

For not forgiving her weaknesses. For his rage at her passivity, at her unwavering love for the man that refused marry her, that kept her as a badly maintained mistress for years. The last thing he'd said to her before he moved out was, "You're a whore, and I'm ashamed to be your son."

The shame, at least, still remains.

Loki puts three gloved fingers to his lips, then to the headstone. "I met a boy," he begins. "Odin's son. You would probably not approve." 

His mother wouldn't have understood his rage, his burning need for revenge. The day he put the final nail in Laufey's coffin he'd come here, gotten drunk and passed out face first on a bed of freshly laid azaleas. Not the most glamourous of celebrations, and even now Loki can't reassure himself that he's doing all this on her behalf. 

"Whatever it takes, Ma. Whatever it takes."

Thor's still asleep when Loki returns back to the apartment. Loki watches him for a while, sleeping the sleep of the untroubled young, before he removes his clothes and climbs in under the covers with him. Thor turns instinctively, wraps an arm around his waist. "You smell like carnations," he mutters sleepily, burying his face in Loki's neck. 

"I was at a cemetery. It's my mother's death anniversary," Loki says, before he can stop himself. 

"I'm sorry," Thor says, and his hand rubs a smooth circle in Loki's back. "Sorry."

"Why? You didn't kill her." Your father did, Loki wants to say. Instead he says, with only some degree of bitterness, "We can't be all Odinsons." Thor pulls back, blinks at him. Loki traces the line of his cheek with his thumb. "I didn't mean that."

"You don't have to be so angry all the time, you know."

"Says the kid with the criminal assault record."

"They deserved it," Thor says. 

"I'm certain they did. We all get what we deserve, in the end."

"And what do you think you deserve?"

"Nothing good, I suppose."

Thor sighs, presses their foreheads together. 

Loki cradles his face in his hands, asks, "You have a show tonight?"

"Nope. Club's closed tonight, some inspection thing."

"Good, we're going out."

Thor yawns, nuzzles at him. "Later, all right." He falls back asleep in Loki's arms, and Loki listens to him breathe for a while.

-

He takes Thor back to his old neighbourhood. Most of it is gone by now, replaced with high-rises, but the restaurant's still there, tucked away in a hidden corner of the street. It's half-empty when Loki gets there, takes his usual booth by the window. Thor slides into the seat opposite from him and glances around, says, "So, dinner and a movie, huh?"

"Yes," Loki says, stiff. "Dinner and a movie." 

Thor says, "Uh-huh," as if he's trying to figure out what Loki's angle is. 

Loki sighs. "Am I such a monster that it flummoxes you so, that I might want to enjoy a quiet evening with you."

"You don't really seem like the quiet evening type. More like mischief and mayhem, plotting world domination -"

"While I stroke a cat evilly and mutter under my breath?"

"You said it, not me." But he's smiling, relaxed, and by the time the third beer is served he's stopped questioning Loki's motives and is instead making random confessions to Loki. 

About his sex life: Girls mostly. Boys sometimes. You. 

Loki doesn't think to ask why he's separate from the boys category. Age, most likely. 

About his relationship with Odin: High expectations, strict discipline, the weight of being the only heir to an empire, of having his future determined almost since birth.

About stripping: Fun, humbling, on occasion humiliating and violent, but mostly wildly enjoyable. A relief, not to have that expectation laid upon him.

"Does your father know," Loki asks.

Thor shrugs. "I don't know. I tried apologizing a couple of months ago, Mom said I should. He told me that I didn't deserve his forgiveness. So then I told him to go fuck himself and left." There's distress at that admission, frown lines marring his perfect face. 

Loki reaches out, smooths them away. "You don't need him."

"Yeah?"

"He disowned you for a minor transgression, at most. What kind of a father does that?"

Thor's eyes flicker. "He was trying to teach me a lesson."

"And what have you learnt, exactly? That the world is a cruel place without money? He didn't have to completely toss you out for you to learn that. Look at you now - look at what he has done to you."

"I suppose," Thor says, dragging the words out reluctantly. "But maybe if I - I don't know. I could never please him."

"You need to realize you don't have to, that's all." Loki dares to lean forward, to kiss Thor on the side of his downturned mouth. In the darkness of the corner booth, it's possible no-one notices. It's possible Loki doesn't even care. So this is what being close to victory feels like, then. "Let's skip the movie."

Thor shakes his head. "No, we're going. I'm not going to waste this opportunity to watch a free movie."

"I brought you to Tokyo."

"Tokyo didn't have a Pixar retrospective."

Thor chooses Finding Nemo, and Loki keeps his mouth firmly shut. They sit in the last row, and Thor puts his head on Loki's shoulder as he feeds Loki buttery popcorn. 

"It's a _cartoon_ ," Loki says, despairing, when the movie begins.

"You did not know this?"

"No, I knew this. I just felt like pointing it out, in case you came to the sudden realization that you're an adult."

"Shhhh," a brat of a child in front of them says. Loki hisses at her, and she pouts, turns her back to them in a huff. 

Thor laughs, says, "Behave."

Loki manages to curb his tongue until the movie is over, and they're strolling to the parking lot. Then he says, "That was horrible, manipulative drivel. I can't believe you made me sit through it."

"Do you need another tissue?"

"I was not crying."

"Uh-huh." 

"I'm serious, Thor." 

They reach the car, and Loki crowds Thor against it. "Hey," Thor says, and there's so much warmth in his gaze. How did Odin manage to spawn a kid like this? He must take after his mother. Loki can't find traces of his own mother in himself at all, and the realization that he's probably more like Laufey than anyone else is terrifying. "If you take me home, I promise to put out."

"I -" Loki begins. "My place is nearer. Come on."

They've fallen into a comfortable silence by the time they reach Loki's place. When Loki lets him in, Thor glances around a living room that one would generously describe as 'quaint', says with some surprise, "This isn't where I expected you to live."

Loki shrugs. Most of the furniture he'd gotten when he still couldn't afford anything better, and a fair amount of it belonged to his mother. Loki should throw all of it out, or possibly move to an apartment less lived in, but it's not as if anyone is ever allowed here, so it hardly matters. "Bedroom's down the hall." 

He drags Thor with him before Thor decides to snoop around, pushes him into the bedroom. The evening and Thor's presence in his home have driven his senses to a fine point - his skin is practically crawling with the need to do something, anything, to take the edge off. 

He strips Thor down methodically, pushes him face down onto the bed. Thor tries to rise, but Loki grips him by the back of the neck and he goes limp, like a cat, allows Loki to position him until he's satisfied. He crosses Thor's arms behind his back, holds them by the wrist at the base of his spine, and Thor turns his face to the side, his face flushed and lips wet. He's almost unbearably lovely, like this, and his mouth opens in a silent moan when Loki starts to fuck him. 

He goes slow at first, as deep as he can, and Thor's entire body jerks from the thrusts, until they're both slick with sweat and heat. Loki drapes himself over Thor's back, says, low, "I knew you'd be a sweet fuck, from the moment you shook your ass for me. I didn't think you'd be this wanton though, this easy."

Thor only groans in response, mutters something incoherent. He twists his wrists in an attempt to break free, but Loki only grinds down harder, and eventually he slides back down into stillness. He shivers when Loki releases his wrists to come all over his back in hot, desperate spurts, calls out Loki's name hoarsely. Loki kisses him then, drags his head up and back and keeps on kissing him, unable to stop. Thor starts to keen, pulls away, and Loki reaches down blindly, touches his hard cock. That's all it takes, a mere touch, and Thor is jerking, coming messily in Loki's hand. 

They both collapse onto the bed, Thor moving forward to capture Loki's mouth, and Loki can't help it, he wants to keep kissing Thor, wants to fuck him again, right now, wants to mark him until he's helplessly aware that he belongs to Loki. The realization makes him jerk back, hold Thor at arm's length, but Thor doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are dazed, his features already turning slack with sleep. He's gone by the time Loki slips out of the bed, stumbles to the balcony for fresh air. 

He can barely breathe, and he stays out there for the longest time.

-

Thor texts Loki a few days later, and it takes him a full two minutes of staring at the words to realize that he's asking for suggestions for a new routine. Loki messages back, _keep your clothes on the entire show_ , and receives a, _nt wht im being pd 4_ , in return. Loki sighs. All that private schooling, and this is the result. 

He's walking from his office to the nearby deli when he pauses in front of a shop that he's passed a few times before, without really looking at it. The place has just opened, and the proprietor offers him a harried, but friendly enough smile when he enters. "What can I do for you, sir?" 

Loki glances around, at the whips and chains and sinister looking instruments and devices neatly displayed on the shelves, says, "Hmm."

Over dinner at the apartment, Loki plops the neatly wrapped box in Thor's lap. 

"What is this?"

"Open it."

The collar's spiked, a warm brown leather with gold studs. Thor holds it in his hands for a while, then says, curiously hoarse, "You want to put it on me?" 

"Yes." Loki leans forward, buckles the collar around Thor's throat and slips one finger in to ensure that he can still breathe. 

"So what kind of a show? Tarzan?" 

"You can be more creative than that, surely." He stands, digs his finger deeper in, drags the collar upwards and Thor along with it. "Take off your clothes."

Thor takes off his sweater slowly, sensually, drops it to the floor. "No, not like that. Not the way they taught you." 

"Then how?" 

"Figure it out." Loki sits back down on the chair, crosses one leg over the other. Thor drops all affectation, just toes off his sneakers, unbottons his shirt and jeans and removes them as if he's alone at home and no-one's watching.There's a self-conscious air about him that Loki's never seen, and a flush spreads across his cheeks when he's finally down to nothing but the collar and his underwear. His thumbs worry at the band of his briefs as he hesitates, glances to Loki for approval. 

Loki just nods, says, "Stop. Come here. On your knees, that's good, yeah." He cards his fingers through Thor's hair, and Thor bends his head.


	4. Chapter 4

They have lunch with Amora, a lunch that only happens because somehow Amora manages to find them in a restaurant and Thor invites her to join them. "I would love to," Amora says. "But let me go powder my nose first, darling." She waves cheerfully at Loki as he gives her a scathing glare when Thor's not looking.

When she's gone, Loki grouses, "That wasn't your place."

"I was merely being polite," Thor says, and picks up the menu. He looks more comfortable here, in this expensive restaurant, than Loki does. Thor was born into privilege, and Loki's merely an imposter.

"Well," Loki says, "I suppose we'll just have to survive somehow. She did introduce us."

"That she did," Thor says, and beams.

The afternoon is excruciating, with Amora outrageously flirting with Thor and Thor flirting back, though with Thor it's more like being flirtatious is his natural state rather than an act he has to put on. When Thor leaves to go the bathroom, Amora says, "Congratulations, he's completely in love with you." 

"I very much doubt he is." 

Amora rolls her eyes, "That's because you're emotionally compromised yourself. And here I never thought I'd see the day."

He's distracted by the sight of Thor, making his way back from the bathroom and smiling at Loki. He slides into his chair, frowns faintly. "Should I get another dessert? I feel I should get another dessert."

"No more sugar," Loki says. "You start acting like a hyperactive puppy, it's unbearable." 

Thor makes a face at him, orders the chocolate mousse and remarks idly, "The key to handling hyperactive puppies is proper training." 

"Hmm," Loki says. 

Amora's speaking, and Loki turns to her, startled, "What?" 

"Oh, don't mind me. I'll just sit here - Thor, we can share."

In the car on the way back home, Loki keeps silent, stares out the window.

Thor shoots him a look. "You okay?" 

"I'm fine - why wouldn't I be fine." He takes out his phone, flips through some of the pictures that Thor's sent him. He could send these out, ruin the boy's reputation at least somewhat, cause Odin some humiliation. That would be a good start. 

The car pulls up at Thor's apartment, and Loki says, "Goodbye."

"You're not coming up?" 

"I have a busy day ahead." 

"We don't have to fuck. I can make you coffee." 

"I wouldn't call that sugar syrup you make coffee." Thor has an inexplicable fondness for vanilla powdered lattes with added sugar for even more disgusting sweetness. 

Thor grins, slow and brimming with promise. "I'll try to restrain myself."

"If we're not going to fuck there's really no need for me to come up, is there?" 

Thor's reaction is slow, but when it comes it's mostly hurt and annoyance, before he slips into careful neutrality. "Right," he says tightly. 

He leans forward, and Loki almost flinches, but he mirrors Thor's expression instead.

The kiss is a surprise, and Loki only doesn't pull away because of pride. Thor kisses him softly, patiently, exploring his mouth with his tongue. When he breaks away, Loki's shaking. Thor's fingers ghost over his crotch, but he only says, "See ya."

Marcus clears his throat as Loki's watching Thor saunter into the apartment building. "Sir?"

"Just go," Loki says. 

-

When Loki contacts Thor again, it's two days later. Thor sounds distracted, non-committal, but agrees to meet Loki when he says, "I need to drive up to view a house, we could maybe have a picnic."

Loki drives, tells Marcus to take the day off. Thor only manages to hold on to his irritation for a short while, before he's browsing through Loki's entertainment system and complaining about the music choices. 

"Sorry there's no stripper music," Loki says. 

The house has five bedrooms, and overlooks a natural lake. The surrounding land was a steal, and for some reason all Loki could think to do was to pour his effort into building a solitary house. "We had the stone shipped over from France," he says, as Thor runs his hand along the exposed, warm gray brick wall. "I designed the place myself."

Thor seems to realize it's not something that Loki does often. "You've sold it?" 

"Not yet, but soon." 

"You shouldn't. It's a nice house." 

"What do I need with a five bedroom house - it's built for a family." His throat feels tight.

"You could have a family," Thor says, soft. "Someday, maybe." 

"Come on," Loki says, shaking his head. "Let's eat."

Loki's arranged for a picnic lunch by the fireplace, laid out on a blanket. Thor demolishes most of the food, then lies down and moans pitifully. "I'm so full."

Loki slides Thor's t-shirt up, rubs his only slightly distended belly. "That's what happens when you eat enough to feed an entire village." 

"I didn't want to waste the food," Thor says faintly. "It was good food."

Loki uses his palm and the edges of his curved fingers, makes small, warm circles. Thor stretches, arms up above his head, and his face turns glassy, contented as Loki continues to rub. Loki wants to kiss him, but he doesn't, not yet. Instead he lies down on his side next to Thor, shoulder pressed against him, and continues.

"Hey," Thor says, as Loki hovers near him. 

"Hey yourself." Thor toes off his shoes, and Loki helps him unbutton his jeans. "What do you want," Loki asks. 

"You," Thor says. 

Loki kisses the side of his mouth to keep from responding. "No, I meant now." 

"Anything," Thor says. "You could - anything." He lapses into silence, eyes half closed. Loki feels his lashes against his cheek, and his soft, steady breaths.

There's no bed in the house, so Loki strips Thor down and fucks him on the blanket, slow and deep. He circles his hand around Thor's throat, squeezes gently and Thor arches up into him, draws his knee up around Loki's waist as Loki trembles, wipes sweat out of his face. 

"Loki," Thor says. "Oh, fuck - fuck."

Loki bites down on Thor's chin, leaves a mark on the side of his jaw, a blooming bruise on his neck. 

Thor just shivers, and comes.

As they leave, Thor slumps in the passenger seat of the car and touches his throat gingerly, a small, satisfied smile on his face.

"Come up," he says when they reach his apartment. 

Loki looks away, out the window. "I can't." 

"Sure you can." 

"You think you know me - you don't. You're a kid, you don't know how the world works."

"Come up," Thor repeats. 

"Okay."

-

The watch is a larger version of his own, made to fit on Thor's larger wrist. 

"Cool," Thor says, when he opens the box. 

"I was walking by the shop and remembered it was your birthday and I hadn't gotten you anything." It's only partly true: he had to special order it from Switzerland, but Thor doesn't need to know that.

Thor fiddles with the watch until Loki tires of it, snaps his fingers so Thor passes it to him to put it on. He tightens the leather strap around Thor's wrist, adjusts it until he's satisfied. The watch is mostly white, and gleams quietly on Thor's golden wrist. "I have a show tonight," Thor says. "You should come." 

"I should?" Loki's not been back to the club in a while. 

"Sure, why not. I have a new routine - I'm a Ken doll." 

"That fits."

"I'll wear the watch." 

"Barbie must keep Ken well." 

"She does. Well, when she makes the effort." He gives Loki a brief kiss before rushing away, going, "I'm late, fuck - see you tonight, okay? I'll tell Nick to let you in." The door bangs shut before Loki can respond.

-

He's allowed into the club and given his usual seat near the stage. Thor's the final act. He's slicked his hair back from his face and his body gleams with oil as he explodes from a giant doll box. He manages to keep his face stiff and doll-like until he spots Loki - then a small smile escapes. When he drops down to straddle Loki's lap he says, "Hey, Franklin. Long time no see. Where you been?"

"Busy. Met a boy. He's not as hot as you, though." 

"Flattery will get you everywhere." 

"I know." Loki twines Thor's hair around his fingers, drags his head down to kiss him. Thor moans and shimmies in his lap, only pulls away way past what's appropriate.

After Thor bounds back to the stage the man sitting at the next table leans close to Loki. "You lucky bastard," he shouts over the music. "What I wouldn't give to have a piece of that."

Loki says, "Pay him enough and you can," but he doubts the man can hear him.

-

"I'm thinking Botox," Amora says, peering at her face in a compact mirror. "The eyes. Maybe a facelift."

"You're aging well," Loki replies distractedly. "I don't understand your obsession with your body."

"Says the man who barely eats and runs three miles each morning."

"Those of us who are ugly on the inside have to make sure we remain beautiful on the outside." He pauses. "Point taken. Facelift. I can introduce you to someone good."

Amora snaps the compact shut, switches the subject abruptly. "Speaking of good looks, you're very dapper lately, Loki."

"I'm always dapper." 

"No but you have a certain bounce in your step, a twinkle in your eye." 

"Just my plans coming to fruition,"Loki says airily.

"Yeah, that's it. He gets under your skin, doesn't he," she continues, and now she's serious. There's a tinge of envy in her words, and Loki pays more attention.

"He's just a boy, Amora. A spoilt, unruly boy." 

"You forget beauty." 

"Money can buy you beauty."

"Not him," she says, and now she's furious, although she hides it well. There's a lot that Loki doesn't know about Amora: she hides her past as well as he does his own, which is to say she never reveals anything about herself except for what she carries. A barely closed up wound, bandaged tight.

"When this is over, maybe you can have him."

"I don't want your sloppy seconds," Amora snaps, and rises to her feet. She storms out of his office, and Loki's left staring at the closed door.

-

"You can just come up to my office," Loki says, when Thor calls, and it strikes him then just how much of his private life he's given Thor access to. But it's too late for that, the invitation's already out there, and Thor's already agreeing to it.

Loki's in a meeting when Thor shows up, and by the time the meeting is over Thor's somehow managed to charm most of the staff, who all shoot varying looks of surprise when Thor waves cheerfully at him. A cloud of admiration and lust follows him as he enters Loki's office, and Loki finds himself frowning.

Loki has lunch delivered, and they retreat to the rarely used couches in the middle of the office. Thor spreads the food out on the coffee table and slides down onto the floor, back against the couch seat and near Loki's legs. He digs in with his usual gusto, leaving Loki to card his fingers through his hair - ignoring his own plate as he listens to Thor natter on about his new act, and the bachelorette party he has booked tonight.

"Do you ever sleep with them," Loki thinks to ask. 

"The brides to be? Once or twice, yeah. But I won't." The gaze he offers Loki is hooded. 

Loki snorts. "Do strippers really enhance a party? What's the point of even getting married in the first place if your last act of singlehood is to celebrate your dedication to debauchery?" 

"They pay well," Thor replies, amiably enough. 

Loki jerks Thor's head back, kisses him until they're both breathless. It's as if he's always known Thor this way, as if their pieces fit together in a horribly ill-conceived jigsaw puzzle, to form a picture better left disassembled. And yet here they are, somehow.

Again.

Loki pulls away, says, "I've been thinking."

"That's never good." He touches his fingers to Loki's temple. "You think too much. It ruins things."

"And you think too little." Loki snorts again, twines locks of Thor's hair around his fingers, says, "It's unlikely your father doesn't know what you're doing." 

Thor groans. "You just completely ruined the mood." 

"I was merely wondering if you'd like to come with me to the next dinner function." 

"Why?" 

Loki plays with the collar of Thor's t-shirt. "Well it might annoy him, I feel." 

"I don't really want to annoy him." Thor hesitates. "I kinda just wanted to go home for the longest time. But it was more than just the one incident, I see that now." 

"Just come," Loki says. "Maybe he's ready to forgive you."

"I'll come," Thor says, and brightens. "If you'll come with me to Nick's house tonight, after the gig. He's throwing a party, it'll be awesome."

-

Loki only shows up because he wants to know how Thor lives, wants to know who his friends are. The house is decent enough, and Loki ignores the filthy look Nick throws him: he's one to pass judgement, seeing as how he has a barely legal dancer taking off his clothes for money. 

"Loki!" Thor gives him a smile that is utterly dazzling and takes him by the hand, introducing him to almost everyone at the party. Almost all of them seem to be half or fully in love with Thor, from the way he's greeted, beamed and pawed at. Loki drinks, possibly too much, and loses Thor somewhere in the kitchen. He grabs another drink, spots him leaning against a pillar, chatting animatedly with blonde, half naked girl. Loki notes abstractedly that her breasts are exquisite, and possibly even real.

Someone blocks his path. "Excuse me," Loki says.

"You're excused," the man says. He sticks out his hand instead of getting out of the way. "I'm Tony, hey. Loki, right?"

Loki tears his gaze away from Thor. Short, dark-haired, older than Thor but not by much. The Tony that would put out, or so Thor said. From the lazy smile he offers Loki, Thor was telling the truth. Loki spends the next ten minutes talking. Mostly listening, while Tony goes on about some thing or another. 

Thor's still flirting with the girl.

"Hey, Tony." Loki leans close, whispers in Tony's year. "I'll give you five hundred dollars to blow me."

"Sure," Tony says, without missing a beat. "For five hundred, I'll even shut up during." He tilts his head. "And what about Thor?"

"We're hardly exclusive." 

Tony shrugs, and takes him by the hand. They trudge upstairs, and by the time they hit an empty bedroom Loki's wavering. 

"On second thought," he begins. 

"You sure?" There's a smirk on his face that Loki wants to smack off. He's like Thor's darker twin, all giant eyes and lazy charm. "It's all right dude. I get it - Thor's a great kid, isn't he?" And now he's not smiling. 

"I suppose," Loki says flatly. 

Tony pats him on the shoulder, "Yeah, so that's settled, now I'm happy."

Loki gets the distinct feeling something's just happened but he doesn't know exactly what it is.

When he comes down, Thor's managed to tear himself away from Blonde and Busty and is just staring at him, unmoving. 

"Let's go," Loki says. "I've had quite enough _partying_ for one night." 

But Thor only shakes his head, and when he speaks it's low, livid. "He's my friend," he says. "You can't just -" 

"What? Pay for him like I paid for you? Of course I can." 

"You have no right." Thor grabs him by the lapels and shoves him into a nearby wall.

"Let me go," Loki says. 

Thor releases him, holds his hands up. "You want to leave? Leave. I'm not stopping you."

Loki adjusts his suit, tugs on the sleeves of his shirt. "Maybe I'll just take Tony home with me then, if you're going to throw a tantrum." Thor's eyes flicker to the side, and when he glances back something's changed. He shrugs, says, "Good luck with that - he's almost as big a dick as you are, I'm sure you'll both be very happy."

Loki follows his gaze, spots Tony leaning against the kitchen counter. He gives Loki a jaunty little wave and a thumbs up. "You and I," Loki says, "this is not how this works, where you dictate terms."

Thor slides his hands into the pockets of his pants, grey wool that Loki bought for him, says, "Just this one term."

"And if I tell you to go to hell?"

"So tell me that, then." There's a resoluteness to him, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Every instinct in Loki wants to tell Thor _no_ , to let him know in no uncertain terms that this is unacceptable: he won't be threatened by a teenager. He can't do this, even for this plan for revenge that's rather distant at this point in time. He still finds himself rolling his eyes and saying, "Do you have to be so melodramatic?"

"I don't know - do you have to be such a dick?" Loki has never wanted to fuck him more. "Apparently you do." 

He takes ahold of Thor's belt, drags him forward until their bodies are pressed together, so Thor can feel him hard against his thigh. "I want to fuck you, here," Loki says. He swallows, chokes out, "Only you."

Thor laughs, sweet, triumphant. "Come on then," he says.

They end up in the same bedroom he was in with Tony. Loki's slightly drunk, and Thor - he brushes back Thor's hair from his face and finds his pupils blown wide open. "What did you take," Loki demands. Thor's only reply is to push him down onto the bed. 

He strips down and follows Loki onto it, straddles his waist as he undoes Loki's pants to pull his cock out.

"You have -" Loki starts.

"I have spit," Thor says, and spits, to demonstrate. He slicks Loki down, but still he hisses when he lowers himself down onto Loki's cock, eyes turning glassy with pain. Loki grips him by the hips and thrusts up, deeper inside, and now Thor's head falls backwards, exposing the strong line of his throat. 

Loki whimpers faintly, closes his eyes so he can give into it. A warm body presses against his side, and he turns his head to find the girl from earlier, smiling dreamily at him. "He's so beautiful," she says, "like a god."

Loki turns back to Thor, who's rocking against him, his body tight and hot, muscles in his arms rippling as he rises. "He is," Loki agrees.

"Can I touch him?" She raises herself after Loki jerks his head into a nod, touches his chest tentatively. If Thor notices, he doesn't react, and she trails her hand down to wrap around his cock. Loki covers her hand with his, slides it up rough, the way Thor likes. It doesn't take much, and then he's growling, coming hard on Loki's chest.

The girl leans down, licks up the drops, and Loki drags her up by the hair, kisses her messily. He's still hard, still sheathed inside Thor, and he cants his hips upwards. 

She disappears at some point, or fades away. And then it's just Thor and him, and the slow, roiling ache. Thor curls down over him, kisses him on the edge of his cheek, says, dizzily, honestly, "I love you, okay. I love you."

Loki comes.

-

The rest of the week passes by, and then it's the night of the charity event. Thor's agreed to wear a tuxedo, braided and tied back his hair so he looks impossibly beautiful, as if he were cut out of a magazine, and even the few steps he has to take from his apartment to the car draws admiring glances from strangers on the sidewalk. 

Loki takes a detour back to his old neighbourhood, directs Marcus to stop on the street he grew up on. It's unrecognizable: the old apartment torn down to give way to expensive single family homes, hidden behind steel gates and greenery. 

Thor looks around with some curiosity, and Loki says, "The first time I was picked on, some kid smashed my face onto the pavement, broke two of my teeth and my cheekbone." He was always too odd, too small and pale and with a mouth that he couldn't keep shut. He used to think he'd inherited his nature from Laufey, but then he met the man and realized they were not much alike. He was Loki, and he was all alone.

"You grew up here?"

"No, not exactly. It's all gone now - your father bought the surrounding properties, built all -" he waves his wrist airily, "this." 

It broke his mother's heart: just another indignity in a life filled with it. Loki had told himself then - never again. He destroyed Laufey by seeing ten steps ahead of him, making him a promise that he would then not fulfill, betraying him the same way Laufey betrayed his mother all those years ago. Promises left broken: _I love you_ and _I will leave her_ and _We will marry_. 

"It's for the best, really. They were hardly happy memories, my childhood." 

Thor strokes his thumb across Loki's cheek. "You don't have to be alone, you know."

"So says the boy I'm paying to keep me company."

"You never had to pay me," Thor says. "It just seemed easier for you to believe that."

Loki has to laugh. "And you're telling me this why?"

"I meant what I said." His thumb is still on Loki's cheek. Loki moves away, and Thor drops his hand after a moment.

"You're nineteen. You're a child. You know nothing about anything at all, including -" He bites down on the word. All Loki remembers of love is pain. He loved his mother, and lost her. "You remind me of her," Loki says distantly, barely aware he's speaking. "She was always so warm, so generous. I could never be like that, never."

"I see you, hey," Thor says, and all of a sudden he's too close, his breath on Loki's jaw. "I see you."

"If you truly saw me, you wouldn't be in love."

Thor just shakes his head. 

"Let's skip the dinner," Loki says. "We'll go back to your apartment, eat that awful take-out you like so much."

"No, we should go. I need to face my father eventually - now's as good a time as any."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

It goes about as well as expected. There's instant recognition of Thor, and even the most jaded of socialites are surprised when word gets out that he's Loki's plus one. 

"You know her," Loki asks at one point, as they're being glared at by a redhead who's even paler in complexion than Loki is.

"We dated for a moment," Thor says, offhand. He slides his hand onto the small of Loki's back, leans in so it's obvious that they're not just friends. As if everyone couldn't tell just from the way Thor keeps looking at him. "Go fetch me a drink. I'll stand here and look pretty."

"And underaged."

"That too." 

As Loki makes his way to the open bar, he's accosted by Odin, who shakes his head reproachfully at him. "What are you doing with my son," he asks.

"Right now? Getting him a drink. But the night is young, and oh the things we will get up to later on -"

Odin's face darkens. "He's a teenager, Loki. I'm not sure what you think you're doing."

Loki holds two fingers up and is given two glasses of champagne. "I'm not the one that disowned my own son and left him to fend for himself - did you know he was selling his body for money or did you just assume he wouldn't go that far."

"I'm aware of the -" Odin swallows with some difficulty. "I told him to stop, but he's a stubborn boy. Still just a boy though - what game are you playing?"

"I'm playing the game where I fuck your son and then tell everyone about it. He's a sweet little cocksucker, by the way. You raised him right, and I'll show you the pictures if you play your cards right. Perhaps I'll introduce him to some of my friends when I'm done with him. It's that old money stink he carries, brings about such a rarefied air."

Odin looks livid, as expected. "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want anything?"

"Enough. What do you want."

Loki takes a sip of his drink, pretends to ponder. "To stay away from your son? Let me get back to you on that one. Oh wait, I've figured it out. Let's talk about the redevelopment plans you have for the waterfront property, shall we? Shame you underbid me for it - I did have so much promise for it."

And now Odin's truly angry. Losing the deal won't destroy him, but it will set him back some. And it's good enough for now. Loki will take whatever victory that comes his way, no matter the cost. A small voice reminds him that the cost might just be Thor, but he ignores it. 

"How much do you love your son, Odin," Loki says, soft. "What is it worth for me never to see him again?"

Odin opens his mouth with some disbelief, shuts it again. 

And that's when Loki knows he's won.

-

He'll break it to Thor easily, that's what he'll do. Just enough to slip the knife in, not enough to hurt all that bad. It's not as if Thor's done anything to deserve this, other than be Odin's spawn, and spoilt and privileged and beautiful and loved in all the ways that Loki wasn't. 

"You're being very quiet," Thor says, as they're driven back to Loki's place. "It's not like you."

"It's exactly like me - you just don't know me very well at all."

"Don't I?" 

He crowds into Loki's space, and Loki puts his hands on either side of his face, to keep him away. "You don't."

"What's wrong? I can tell something's wrong."

"Nothing," Loki says, and presses his forehead to Thor's. "Nothing at all."

Tomorrow, he'll do it tomorrow, that's what he'll do.

-

Somehow, while Loki wasn't looking, Thor managed to turn the apartment into a home. Neat, but lived in.

Comforter thrown over the couch: they made out there more than once, while Thor forced Loki to watch terrible movies from the eighties and exclaimed in horror that Loki had never seen any of them. "The only people that reminisce about the eighties are the ones that didn't have to live through them," Loki told him. 

The closet, littered with the tools of Thor's trade: Thor tried out his new routines more than once while Loki sat and gave commentary and pretended he was invested in more than just the urge to remove whatever little clothing Thor had on and fuck him to the floor.

The bathroom, filled with Thor's gunk: Thor primped and primed like a woman, although he didn't really need much help. They sat in the bathtub more than once, Thor's long legs wrapped around Loki's waist as they shared aimless, forgettable conversations.

"You can keep the apartment and everything in it," he tells Thor.

Thor just stares at him, wide-eyed. He's been doing the same thing for the past five minutes, staring at Loki with incomprehension. "I don't understand," is the first thing he says.

"What's not to understand? I'm done with you - the apartment is more than generous compensation I feel." He sighs as Thor blinks furiously, says, "I did tell you that you shouldn't expect more from me than this. And now I'm bored, and I'm done."

"I don't - we were fine yesterday."

Loki shrugs. "And today's today. You didn't think for a second I was truly interested in you, did you? Just because your father's Odin doesn't make you any less of a whore."

He turns away, but Thor follows him, grabs his arm. "Just talk to me, all right? Whatever it is, we can work it out."

Loki stops at the entrance to the door, opens it with a shaking hand. "Ask your father," he says, with as much quietness as he can manage, and walks out.


	5. Chapter 5

Thor calls him, about a hundred times the first week. Loki flies to Tokyo on a trip that's not strictly necessary, spends half the time reading and deleting the messages.

The second week, the calls and messages stop. The last message Loki receives is a sad little frowny face, which Loki can't bring himself to delete. 

Amora says, as they're having dinner at the hotel restaurant, "I see you're coping well with the break-up."

"Considering it wasn't a relationship to begin with, but merely a means to an end, there's really nothing to cope with."

"Uh-huh."

Loki snaps open the menu, stares unseeingly at the words. Thor hasn't tried to contact him in three days. He must have finally gotten the hint. "I won't have time for this nonsense anyway, there's far too much work to do."

Amora says nothing, merely slips a black business card to him. There a single number on it in raised gold, and nothing else. "Call them. They're more expensive than the boy, but discreet and entirely worth it. Trust me."

Loki snorts, but slides the card into his jacket pocket.

He forgets about it entirely until he's alone in the hotel suite, and it was stupid of him, possibly, to keep the same suite that he had when Thor was here. Not that it matters any. Not until it's 2am, and he can't sleep. He tries to jerk himself off, but gives up halfway in frustration.

When he calls the number, a woman picks up, says, in perfect, accentless English, "How can we help you tonight, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Did Amora tell you I'd be calling?"

"Sir," the woman says. "The less questions you ask, we find, the more satisfied you'll be."

"I'm never satisfied," Loki tells her, and chokes back a laugh. "I want a -"

Boy, blond and blue-eyed.

He asks for a woman instead, and a perfectly lovely Japanese girl shows up at the suite exactly half an hour later, as promised. Her accent is flawless as well, but Loki says, "Just don't speak, that would be best."

He fucks her, then sends her away, even though he'd paid for the night, and asked for someone willing to do just about anything - the list of what she wouldn't do, as told to him by the woman, was very short. To her credit, she says not a word, not even when he waves her away, thrusting an overly generous tip in her hand.

"How was it," Amora asks the next morning.

"Satisfactory," Loki says, and hangs up. 

-

A package arrives at Loki's door the morning he returns home. He takes it from the delivery guy and stares at the return address for a moment before he sets it down on the kitchen counter to open. There's not a lot in it: a watch, two sets of keys and a hundred dollar bill, neatly tucked into a white envelope. 

Loki leaves it on the counter, opens the liquor cabinet. He's drunk by late afternoon, passed out by the evening. 

A temporary weakness, he tells himself the next morning. He'll return the watch, sell the apartment and the car, and be done with it.

-

Amora hovers around him the next few weeks, as Loki throws himself into work. She comes into his office one day, says, "This has to stop."

"What does?"

"This. You just fired someone for bringing you coffee that wasn't the exact temperature you specified."

"I asked for something and it wasn't done properly - you suddenly care for our employees?"

"Not particularly, but you mope around like a bear in a steel trap named Thor and expect people not to notice."

Loki glares at her. "This has nothing at all to do with Thor," he says. "I already told you. I had a plan and it worked perfectly and now I'm happy, can't you see how happy I am?"

Amora stares at him with some incredulity. "Yeah, now I know you've lost it. You're never happy."

"You're fired," Loki tells her, and points at the door. "Get out."

Amora flounces away with a, "Ha!" and Loki watches her return to her own office, giving absolutely no inclination that she's about to pack up and leave. Loki draws all the blinds and spends the entire day working feverishly, only returning home past three a.m. 

-

He doesn't miss Thor at all.

-

A month, and he can admit to himself that perhaps Thor's absence might have left a hole in his life. Just a tiny one. Maybe.

"What are you so afraid of," Thor asked him once, when Loki was still pretending he was pretending.

"You're the one that should be afraid. I'm no good for anyone."

"I don't believe that," Thor said, and kissed him.

Turns out, Loki was right, as he always is.

-

They allow him into the club, but he doesn't recognize anyone. Loki snags a passing waitress, asks, "Where's Nick?"

She shrugs. "Cashed out, I think, moved to Florida."

"Is Thor on tonight?"

"Yeah, everyone asks for him. He's gone, sorry. Quit last month." 

Loki gives her a hundred, leaves and makes a quick phone call to find out where exactly Thor's working now.

Turns out, nowhere near a strip club.

Thor's gone home.

-

Loki finds out he's enrolled back in college, and gets a copy of his class schedule. 

Thor's laughing as he exits the building, books in his hand. The smile fades when he sees Loki, leaning against his car. "I'll see you later," he tells the boy he's with, the one that's clearly in love with him, from the suspicious look he shoots Loki. "Hey," he says as he approaches. There's no expression on his face.

"Let's go for a ride," Loki says.

"What, seriously?" Thor makes no move to get into the car. "What do you want? I gave you back all your stuff."

"I don't want the - stuff back," Loki says stiffly. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here?" There's some impatience rising to the surface, a furrow appearing between his brows.

"Not here. Get in the car."

"No," Thor says, and when Loki reaches for his elbow he jerks back. "I know it's not a word you understand, but try. What do you want?"

"I just," Loki sighs. "Look, I think it's obvious why I'm here, isn't it?"

"What - you want your dick sucked? Is there another deal you want to make with my father? Yeah, he told me."

"It wasn't like that," Loki says. "He didn't want me seeing you, that's the truth."

"And yet here you are."

"Look," Loki says, with some degree of desperation, "what do you want from me?"

"I want you to go to hell."

"Well, I'm familiar with the place -"

"Oh please - tell me again how you fucked me over because of your wretched childhood." He glances around, at the students streaming past, and finally he says. "Look, just leave me alone, okay. I have nothing more to say to you."

He stalks away, leaves Loki staring at his back.

-

There's to be a black tie dinner event late in the year - Thor's entire wretched family has RSVP'ed, but Odin and Frigga won't be able to make it, due to how they're conveniently stuck on the opposite side of the world. Some civil worker strike or another.

There's a fifty percent chance Thor will attend by himself. Loki arranges to go anyway, calls in a few favors to wrangle a last minute seat switch. 

Thor's already there when Loki arrives. He has a smile on his face for some reason, as the girl by his side flirts with him, rather ineptly for someone so attractive - if you're into tiny, useless baubles.

His expression changes as Loki slides into the seat next to him. "What are you doing here," he asks, frowning.

"Same thing you are - pretending all this is for charity."

"This was supposed to be my father's seat."

"And now it's mine. Funny how that works out." 

The girl leans forward, her smile uncertain. "Hi, I'm Jane."

"He's gay," Loki says.

"I'm not," Thor replies immediately, offering her a smile. "I'm not."

"You were two months ago."

"Has your memory always been this selective? Rhetorical question, by the way."

"Right," Jane says, and turns deliberately over to the person on her right. 

Thor proceeds to ignore Loki for the rest of the night, even though Loki tries his best to make conversation. His responses are all stilted, verging on the edge of rude. 

"You're behaving like a child," Loki says.

Thor says, "I'm nineteen, I think I still have some room for childish behavior. Not like my age bothered you before."

"Oh, so now you're a victim and I'm what? A child abuser or something? Your father disowned you and forced you to whore yourself out, and somehow it's all my fault? Maybe I'm responsible for some things, but I'm not responsible for that."

Thor shifts in his seat, tilts his head towards Loki, and his eyes are dark with rage. "Look, what the fuck do you want, other than show up and make me feel like shit."

"You," Loki says, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "I want -"

You.

"Too late for that. You broke my heart, don't you get that? I loved you - I would have done anything -" Thor stops, shakes his head with some exasperation. "Just fuck off, okay?"

"It must be hard, not getting what you want for the first time in your life."

"Right, this again. It's not my fault my father ruined your life or you think he ruined your life - he doesn't even know, you know? He thinks it's just some business deal you wanted, that stupid project. But it's not, isn't it?"

Loki runs his finger aimlessly around the rim of the wine glass. "No, of course he wouldn't know. It's not as if he doesn't buy and tear down property to build over every day. How would he even be aware that one of those homes belonged to my mother? That her mental health deteriorated even further after losing the only home she'd had. That I had to drop everything to take care of her."

"Loki," Thor says, and now his voice has gone soft. "I'm sorry, okay? But it's not my fault."

"You do realize that the only reason you're even back home again, returned to your cushy life as the heir to Odin's empire is me, right? Your father might have let you keep rotting on the streets if not for me."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful?" Thor says, almost incredulously.

Loki puts his hand on Thor's thigh, squeezes. "We can just fuck, Thor. It doesn't have to be so complicated."

"I kept trying to tell you this, but you kept refusing to listen. I'm not a whore, and I won't fuck you just because you want me to." Thor pushes Loki's hand away, rises to his feet and nods to Jane before he stomps away. 

"He seems upset," Jane says, her pretty face turning into a frown as she gives Loki a suspicious glare.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. He'll be fine," Loki replies, as he rises to follow.

He catches up with Thor in the hallway leading to the exit, grabs his elbow and propels him into the nearest doorway, ignoring his protests as he shuts the door behind them both. It's dark, and Loki fumbles for a light switch. Not two seconds after he manages to find it and turn the lights on, Thor punches him.

"Ouch," Loki says, from the floor. He rubs at his chin and rises to his knees, tilts his head up at Thor.

"You're an ass," Thor says, crossing his arms against his chest. They're in the coat room, apparently, surrounded by outerwear. 

"Yeah," Loki says. He inches forward on his knees, and Thor narrows his eyes but doesn't move away, not even when Loki puts his hands on his hips, fanning his fingers outwards. "But you want me."

"No," Thor says, and doesn't sound convincing in the least. He allows Loki to undo his pants, drag out his half-hard cock. "Stop," he says, but his eyes close and his head falls back, and he reaches out to cup the back of Loki's neck, his thumb skittering across the newly blooming bruise formed by the punch.

Loki sucks Thor off slow, until his knees start to ache, and Thor says, "You'll ruin your suit."

"I can buy another," Loki replies, and kisses the head of Thor's cock.

Thor sighs and says, "I'm gonna come soon."

He comes in Loki's mouth, and Loki swallows as much as he can, wipes the rest off with the back of a shaking hand. Thor helps him to his feet. "You're not a kid anymore, Franklin. You need to watch your knees." He swipes a finger across the bottom of Loki's lip.

"That's why I only date younger men. They make me feel young again."

Thor's grin fades away. "What do you want?"

"I already said," Loki says, slightly confused. "I thought -"

"It's not that easy." Thor pauses, starts again. "I was - I am, still in love with you. What do you want?"

"I -" Loki begins, and then he can't go on.

"Yeah," Thor says. He kisses Loki on the cheek. "Goodbye, Franklin."

-

Loki goes on vacation. He hasn't been on one in - Amora gleefully tells him it's almost been a decade. "Whatever will we do without you, Loki?"

"I'll be on mobile, and there's wifi - for god's sake Amora, stop looking at me like that. I'm mildly terrified now I'll come back and you'll have orchestrated a coup. Or worse, redecorated."

Amora kisses him on the cheek and pats his chest. "I promise not to redecorate."

He doesn't go far: spends the weekend moving out to the new place, and the next few days unpacking. By the time he's settled in he's already bored, and ready to go back to work. He gives it another week before he's tired of jogging for miles in the morning and returning to a beautiful, but empty home.

The phone remains silent, save for business calls.

The night before he decides to go back to work he sends out a picture of the living room with the fireplace going, no text.

When he wakes up the next morning it's raining, thunder chasing after lightning across the sky. He's already packed, and when the knock comes he expects it to be Marcus, so he's ill-prepared for Thor, shivering under a hooded sweatshirt that offers no protection from the torrent of rain.

"Are you gonna just stand there and let me drown?"

"Come in, for god's sake." He drags Thor into the foyer, makes him undress as he goes to fetch warm towels from the laundry room that he wraps around Thor's shoulders. Thor's still shivering, so Loki ushers him into the living room, points him to the rug. "Sit, I'll turn the heat on."

"Why's it so cold?"

"Is it?" Loki glances around and shrugs. "Guess I didn't notice. I'm leaving anyway. It's an hour long commute to my office - it was a ridiculous idea, moving in."

Thor grins at him through mildly chattering teeth. "I don't think it was."

"Well, you're a romantic, and an idiot. How'd you get so wet? It's not that far from the driveway to the front door."

"Car broke down. So I walked the rest of the way."

Loki crouches down, rubs Thor's arms through the towel. "Stupid," he murmurs. "You'll catch a cold."

"Yeah, probably," Thor says.

The doorbell rings again, and it's Marcus, slightly wet even under the heavy umbrella he has. "Sir," he says.

Loki looks back into the living room, "I don't think I'll be needing you this morning. Or the rest of the day - maybe you can take the day off."

"Yes, of course. Good day, sir."

Loki just nods. 

He returns to Thor with a cup of hot chocolate, hands it to him while he smiles up at Loki.

"Did you make this?"

"Please. Your clothes are being laundered, they'll be ready soon."

Thor takes a sip of the hot chocolate. "This is so good, if you'd told me you made it I would have said I won't be needing my clothes for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"I'll get you a bathrobe while you wait," Loki says. "You want a blanket?"

"Sure. No, wait, not yet." He takes Loki's hand, tugs until he sits facing him. Loki brushes damp strands of hair away from Thor's face and leans in to kiss him. Thor accepts the kiss, but breaks it off too soon. "I'm here to talk."

"Hmm."

"We can fuck later. It always gets in the way - I kinda lose it when I'm around you."

"I know the feeling," Loki says. He closes his eyes, opens them again. "But I know how this will go. This is who I am -"

"I know."

"You don't. If you did you wouldn't be here."

Thor sighs, and Loki knows what he must think, but there's no pity in his gaze. 

Thor sees him.

It's terrifying.

"Look," Loki says, and he's tired, but Thor's still here, and so he'll keep talking until he walks out, and that will be it. Strange, that this is how it'll end, in this place he never wanted to call home. "All I have is my rage - it's who I am. I can't be anyone else. You wouldn't understand. You can't."

Which isn't Thor's fault, but it is what it is.

Thor puts his hands on Loki's face, cradling it between them. He's so warm, and so completely beautiful. Loki finds a smile crossing his face, bitter and defeated. "You're more than that," Thor says, and he's wrong, Loki knows this, but he wants to believe it anyway.

"No I'm not. I can't let go."

"Of course you can," Thor says. "And you could have me."

Loki pushes his hands away. "But on your terms." The rage bubbles, threatens to overwhelm him again.

"We did it on your terms before, let's try mine." Thor reaches for him, and Loki allows himself to be enveloped into a hug. "Let's try mine."

Loki buries his face in Thor's chest, still faintly damp. He smells like rain. "Congratulations, Odinson," he says, and he finds himself laughing, almost hysterical. "You win."

Thor sneezes. "You owe me a hundred, Franklin." 

"Don't worry," Loki says, and wraps his own arms tentatively around Thor. "I'm good for it."

 

\- end -


End file.
